


Your Heart to Keep

by rainny_days



Series: give me your heart, i'll give you mine [1]
Category: Arashi (Band)
Genre: Crushes, Friendship, Getting Together, Johnny's Juniors - Freeform, Lovestruck!Jun, M/M, Magical Realism, Oblivious!Sho, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Slash, Secret Crush, Unrequited Crush, all of the above mateys, kind of, nino's a good friend, so is aiba
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-11
Updated: 2018-08-11
Packaged: 2019-06-25 16:52:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15644949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainny_days/pseuds/rainny_days
Summary: Jun doesn't think he'll ever give away his heart, Sho thinks he knows exactly what kind of heart he wants. They're both wrong.





	Your Heart to Keep

**Author's Note:**

> for my soul sister's birthday, because she requested a sakumoto fic based on this video. It's my first foray into magical realism, and there's some foreshadowing for a possible Ohmiya sequel because of course there is, who do you think I am.

Jun, like most people, keeps his heart where it’s supposed to be.

On his fifth birthday, his mother had given him the small locket, silver and beautiful. He’d looked at her doubtfully when she told him it would be where he kept his heart, because surely the bright, pulsing thing he carried around everywhere wouldn’t fit into such a tiny object. She’d laughed, and showed him how to put his heart so that it didn’t hurt, tucking in the edges until it was neat and small.

“You have a big heart,” she told him, kissing his forehead. “The person who your heart will go to will be very lucky.”

“But it’s _mine_ ,” he said resolutely, the same way he did when his sister took his figurines, when a fellow classmate tried to snatch his crayons. His mother laughed.

“It is,” she agreed. “And you’ll take care of it until you think it’s the right time. But one day it’ll want to be given to someone, and you’ll just have to trust that they’ll take good care of it.”

Jun, secure in his superior knowledge as a five-year-old, decides that he’ll never let his heart get away, because nobody’ll ever be able to take care of it better than he can.

* * *

 Sho grows up with his heart around his neck, never opening it up and letting other people peek at it like the other kids do. He learns that his heart is easily excitable, easily roused, and he spends more time than he’ll admit to imagining the person who his heart will eventually pick.

In his mind, it’s always someone kind and gentle, understanding and soft-spoken, who’ll laugh at his jokes and always be by his side. She looks vague in his mind, but he thinks he’ll like it if she had long, dark hair, a traditional figure, a soft smile.

His parents haven't exchanged hearts, and when he asks his father why, he just pats his head and tells him that he’ll understand when he grows up. Sho can't imagine that, because he can't imagine himself ever _not_ wanting to give his heart away, let someone who knows him best take care of it.

At seven years old, Sho is pretty sure he knows who his heart will choose, and he can't wait to meet her.

* * *

Jun joins Johnny’s at thirteen, and realises for the first time that not everyone keeps their heart the same way that he does, the same way that most people do. Aiba Masaki’s heart flies around him like some kind of small bird, flittering to everyone in the area like it can't - like _he_ can't - help but love everything around him. Ninomiya Kazunari was, if possible, even stranger, because he seemed to have _no_ heart-box, and only changed the subject if you asked.

Then, there’s Sakurai Sho, who isn't so much strange himself as much as he makes _Jun’s_ heart-box behave, well, weirdly.

Jun first meets him - officially, anyways - as he’s leaving rehearsals, tired after a typically long day. He’s walking out with the others when Nino suddenly smiles, darts forward, and jumps on the back of a tall(er), dark-haired figure.

“Sho-chan!” he chirps sweetly, wrapping his legs around the person’s waist, his arms curling around shoulders. A pair of uniform-clad arms curl around his legs in what seems to be an automatic gesture, the only sign that Jun has that Nino didn't just attack some random pedestrian.

“Are you eating?” A voice asks- a _familiar_ voice, and Jun finds himself staring as Sakurai Sho turns around to smile at Nino. “You’re skin and bones.”

Jun knows he’s staring, _knows_ that this isn't the rehearsal hall, and he can't hide behind dozens of other boys. He can't seem to help it- Sakurai-san is so- _Sakurai-san_ . The person everyone talked about as being some political big-shot, infamous for his insane study schedule and volatile temper. The same person who helped Jun up that time he messed up on his dance, and was so _nice_ about it, offering him advice and giving him a chocolate bar when Jun admitted he’d skipped lunch because he didn't have time for homework after practise. The person who’d told him that he was amazing for working so hard.

A lot of people had told Jun he was amazing. But it was always because he’s an elite, because he has a cute face, because Johnny-san happens to like him. Nobody had ever seemed to realise how hard he was working before- nobody had ever _praised_ him for putting in his everything. Not until Sakurai-san.

And, okay, it helped that Sakurai-san had such a nice smile- not the plasticky idol smile that Jun knows bone-deep, but something bright and wide and kind, and it wasn't _Jun’s_ fault that it was sometimes the only thing that could calm him down after a dozen mistakes and scoldings and critiques. And it wasn't his fault that Sakurai-san had an even _nicer_ laugh, or that his voice was kind of really soothing, or that-

Aiba nudges him in the side. “Matsujun, you’re red.”

Jun ducks his head to hid the red crawling up his face, knowing that it would be futile. Aiba’s voice was not nearly as quiet as he seemed to think it was, and Nino’s eyes catches on them- on him, and he _smiles_.

“Oh, Sho-chan, you haven't met my friends yet!”

Jun feels frozen in time as Sakurai-san turns towards them, face set in a friendly smile.

“This is Toma,” Nino introduces first, and Sakurai-san extracts his hand from Nino’s leg, offers it for a shake. Toma turns it into a fist-bump, and Jun wants to murder him. Sakurai-san looks happy, though, so he refrains. Nino gestures towards Aiba: “The moron.”

“Aiba-chan, right?” Sakurai-san says, as Aiba goes for a high-five. Sho blinks at the beating heart hovering beside him, eyes flickering to the open locket at Aiba’s chest. Jun wishes for a second that Aiba didn't have the unfortunate habit of letting his heart loose whenever he could. But Sho doesn't comment, just smiles as kindly as he always does, and Jun feels his heart-box pulse once, bright. “Nino, uh, talks a lot about you.”

Aiba shoots Nino a dirty look, because even Jun can guess what _that_ means. Then, Nino looks at _him_ , and his smirk widens.

“And here,” he says grandly, “is our precious baby Matsujun.”

Jun is _absolutely_ going to murder him.

Sakurai-san, because he’s the _most wonderful person ever_ , doesn't comment. Just smiles at him.

“Jun-kun,” he says, warm. Jun can feel something flutter against his heart-box, a butterfly in a cage. He resolutely ignores it. “We’ve met before, right? How’s school?”

Jun stares, because- Sakurai-san still _remembers_.

“Uh, it’s- going good. Better because of your advice- I followed you- _it_! I followed it- your advice, that is.” Jun wonders if he can maybe knock himself unconscious if he smashes his head against Aiba’s hard enough. It’s not like he had any brain cells to lose. He can feel his heart vibrating against his chest, and it takes all his effort not to bring his hand up to try to cover it.

Nino’s mouth is in a thin line, obviously trying desperately not to laugh. Aiba looks like he’s watching the world’s greatest romantic drama, stars in his eyes. Toma looks like he’s completely oblivious. So does Sho, thank god.

“I’m glad,” Sho says. The butterfly-beat at Jun’s sternum quickens, and he does press a hand to his chest this time, telling it to _calm down, stop this, he doesn't even_ know _me._

His mom had told him that he should let his heart go to someone that’ll take care of it, and he thinks that Sho _would_. Jun can imagine it, Sho curling steady, capable hands around Jun’s heart, the same way that his hands curl over his pencil when he does his homework in the hallways. He would keep it warm and safe and near, and he’d never lose or hurt it or let it go. Not on purpose.

But he wouldn't _want_ it, either.

That’s the thing that scares Jun the most- not that Sakurai-san would hurt him, but that he’ll take care of Jun’s heart because that’s who he is, because he doesn't want to risk hurting Jun. He doesn't think that he would be able to bear it, being loved out of pity.

Nino’s looking at him more sharply now, eyes fixed on the hand over his heart, and Jun thinks for a second that he’s about to make a joke about how stupidly obvious Jun is. Instead, because Nino lives to be contradictory, he tugs on Sakurai-san’s shoulder, leans down to speak towards his ear.

“C’mon, take me out for ramen, rich-boy,” he says. “You promised.”

“When did I-” Sakurai-san begins to protest, but Nino just nudges his shoulder, probably harder than necessary. He sighs. “Fine, but I have cram school after this, so we have to be quick.”

“Ugh, whatever, nerd,” Nino says, sticking out his tongue childishly. Sakurai-san hitches him up higher on his back and begins to leave, murmuring a polite _“Pleased to meet you, goodbye”_ as he goes. As his back turns to them, Nino turns his head towards Jun and mouths _“You’re welcome_.”

Jun clutches his heart-box, feeling the small pulse inside fighting to escape, and thinks that Nino maybe isn't the most awful friend- at least, not when it counts.

That night, Jun locks himself in his room and pulls out his locket, running his fingers over the intricate golden lines that weave around it, gently unclasping the hinge and opening it.

His heart sits there, soft and beating, strangely sluggish compared to its jackrabbit pace around Sakurai-san. Jun runs a finger over its surface, lifting it into his palms.

“You can't- you can't do that, alright?” he whispers, almost too soft to be heard over the wind coming in his window. “Be so obvious about it. I don't want him to know.”

It glows up at him curiously, and he sighs, letting his shoulders fall. “It’ll be okay. It’s only for a few years.” he doesn't know whether he’s trying to convince it or himself. He gently lowers his hands to the locket again, but before he places the heart it, it jumps up, spins, and flies through his open window.

“Wait-” he rolls out of bed, trips, falls, and gets up again. Running to the window, he leans out and tries to grab the little heart, but it’s already too far away.

He panics, spins around and grabs his locket, opening his bedroom door. His mother stands on the other side, hand poised to open the door. “I heard you yell- is something wrong?”

Jun opens his mouth. Closes it. Tightens his grip on the locket, hiding it from view.

“No,” he lies through his teeth. “It’s fine.”

She looks doubtfully at him, but thankfully doesn't push. “Alright then, come down for dinner. Your sister’s waiting for you.”

Jun hesitates, wondering if he could leave and find his heart. It seems unlikely- after all, only one of them could fly.

“Alright,” he says, resigned, and follows after her, determined to catch it as soon as he can.

After all, he’s pretty sure he knows where it’ll be.

* * *

 Sho finds the thing - or, well, it finds him - after he finishes cram school.

He’s not as tired as he thinks he should be, ramen with Nino always does have that effect on him, his best friend always seeming to put things in perspective, not afraid to be blunt the way that his family is. It’s refreshing, to have frank conversations without someone accusing you of being too emotional, too irrational, too unable to understand _‘so-can-we-just-drop-this-for-now?’_. It’s a large part of why Sho had so quickly come to rely on him, to say the things that Sho can't bring himself to think.

That’s why, when he finds a heart knocking against the window of his room, he calls Nino for help.

“Isn't it your bedtime, or something?” Nino says as he picks up. “I thought you went to school at ass-o’clock in the morning.”

“It’s only ten, Nino,” Sho says, then: “And I just found a heart at my window.”

There’s a long, drawn-out moment of silence from the other end of the line. “I really hope that I’m having auditory hallucinations,” Nino says finally. “Because I thought I just heard that you found a _heart_ , presumably not yours, outside your window.”

“I’m as confused as you are!” Sho cries. Nino sighs.

“Right, was it- asking for directions? Uh, communicating? I don't have much experience with stuff like this, you know.”

“You’re the only person I could think of,” Sho admits. “And, uh, no? It was just. Floating. Like it wanted to come in.”

Nino must pick up on something in his voice. “And you- did. Let it in.”

“I didn't know what else to do!” Sho says, then: “It looks so _small_.”

It’s true. The little heart is peering at him, curious and the size of his palm. He knows, logically, that his heart is the same size, but this heart seems tinier somehow, more fragile. Sho kind of wants to wrap it in a blanket and tuck it in, keep it safe and out of harm’s way. It’s a strange thing, to know that you have someone’s heart in your hands. Sho isn't quite sure what to do with it.

“Well,” Nino says. “I guess you have no other choice but to take care of it then. Not like you’d do anything else. From what you’re saying, it seems perfectly happy to be here, so I guess that some bean out there lost their heart to you.”

Sho blinks. Digests his words. Splutters.

“You think-” he chokes. “You think this heart _chose_ me?”

“It waited at your window and flew in your room, I can't imagine you getting more chosen than _that_.”

Sho waves his hands around, panicking. “But- who?”

He can almost hear Nino shrug. “Who knows? I certainly have no idea who would make the terrible life decision of falling in love with you.”

 _“Hey,”_ Sho says, and almost manages to not think about the fact that someone apparently decided to give their heart to _him_.

After he hangs up the phone, he looks down at the heart, small and pulsing, and wonders who it could be. Someone stubborn, to fly all the way to his window. Enthusiastic. Straightforward. He didn't think that receiving a heart was going to go like this, this uncertainty and strangeness and the warmth beneath his fingertips. This heart doesn't act like anything he thought he wanted in the person who would eventually offer their heart to him, but- somehow-

He reaches towards his own locket, and brushes his fingers over the stutter in its pulse.

He really, really wants to meet them.

* * *

 Jun waits behind a tree at six in the morning the next day, thanking god that it’s a weekend. As the JE boys begin to trickle in, he scans the crowds for Sakurai-san. For his heart.

 _If I find it, I’m shoving it into its box and never letting it out again_ , he vows. As the crowds grow thicker, he has to strain his eyes to try to catch sight of Sakurai-san’s familiar figure.

“Matsujun? What are you doing here?”

Jun turns to Aiba, who’s peering at him from the other side of the tree, and grabs him by the collar, dragging him beside his hiding place.

“Shut _up_ , you idiot, I have to find-” he cuts himself off, not wanting to admit to losing his heart. “Look, have you seen Sakurai-san?”

“Um, yes?”

Jun blinks at him. “Where?”

Aiba points to the road: “He just crossed the street.”

Jun whips his head in that direction, catching Sakurai-san’s messy dark hair and neat polo shirt. There’s no sign of a heart around him, other than his own.

“Shit,” he murmurs. “Where is it?”

“Where is- woah. Is that- is that a _hea-_ mmmmmf!” Jun cuts Aiba off before his voice can rise, eyes locked on Sakurai-san’s bag, the small heart-box barely visible in its glow from the edge. Sakurai-san covers it with his hand, quickly enough that nobody but them seemed to have caught it.

“If you tell Nino, I’ll eviscerate you,” he hisses. Then he lets go, and sprints towards Sakurai-san’s figure.

(Aiba blinks where he’s sitting, the gears of his brain turning.

“Wait,” he says, with dawning delight. “That’s _Matsujun’s_ heart?”)

In Jun’s head, it pans out something like this: he sprints for Sakurai-san, gets to his bag, grabs his heart as he passes in a dexterous, ninja-like move (maybe with a somersault), and keeps hold of it until he can shove it back into his heart-box, where it belongs.

In reality, the throng of boys coming down the road is thick enough that Jun has trouble running at all, let alone keeping a straight path towards Sakurai-san. He keeps getting near only to have his line of sight covered by another boy, and even his shortness, which he normally resented but thought would be useful in this particular instance, was no help in the crowd. He pushes his way through, trying to find his way against the flow of the tide, and, when he sees a familiar brown messenger bag, he instinctively grabs for it.

As he falls, he wonders how much humiliation one person can go through before they spontaniously combust.

“What- Jun-kun?” Sakurai-san sounds winded from _beneath him_ , and a part of Jun’s mind takes in his figure, the warmth of their bodies pressed together, the shift of Sakurai-san’s muscles, the way he smells, and catalogs it away for future use. The rest of him is grabbing at the small heart that shoots up from the bag, having found its way out of the heart-box when they both fell. Jun manages to grab it, but it attaches itself onto Sakurai-san’s hand.

“Come _on_ ,” Jun snarls, and tugs, hard. “Why- won’t- you- _listen_ -”

“Jun-kun,” Sakurai-san says, voice high with nervousness and something else. “This- this heart is yours?”

Jun doesn't answer, just keeps pulling at his dumb, stubborn heart. A crowd of boys are gathering to watch, and Jun can hear the whispering begin to grow. He tugs even harder, feeling the strain in his arms as his heart refuses to let go.

“Jun-kun, I don’t think-” Sakurai-san looks worried, but Jun can't stop now. Can't think about how he _knows_ now, he _must_ , and now he’ll never- well. Jun doesn't know. But _something_ has ended, all because his heart refused to listen to common sense. He gives a huge, final pull.

“ _Jun, no-_!” Sakurai-san shouts, but it’s too late.

Jun stares at the piece of his heart in his hand, the ragged edges from where it ripped from Sakurai-san’s grasp. It doesn't hurt the way he expects it to, no sharp, jagged wound. More a deep, hollow ache, like a bruise that spreads from his chest outwards. He looks at the piece of his heart that’s still in Sakurai-san’s hand, a strange sort of static filling his ears, and feels himself stand. Feels his hands hold the piece of his heart he still has close. Feels his feet begin to move.

He doesn't look at Sakurai-san’s face as he runs away, but it hurts just as much as if he had.

* * *

 Sho scrambles to his feet, shaking off the hands that touch his shoulder, his wrist. He holds the heart - _Jun’s_ heart - closer, keeping it from prying hands and eyes, and begins to go after him.

A hand stops him, and he looks back to see Nino, holding out the bag he dropped, face hard and solemn.

“You forgot this,” he says. “You have to keep your things safe.”

Sho can hear the _“Keep him safe_ ” in his voice. He nods. “I will.”

As he runs, he can hear Nino’s voice rise behind him. “Alright, chucklefucks, show’s over, or do you think Johnny-san keeps us around for our pretty faces? Oh, wait.”

Sho has no idea where to look for Jun, and he hesitates, looks around, before ducking behind a wall and opening his heart-box. His heart sits beating inside, fast and nervous, and he hopes desperately that this works.

“Okay,” he says, and holds up the half of Jun’s heart he still has. It still hurts to look at. “I know- I know he’s not what we thought he would be, and I don't know if I want him to _keep_ you yet, but. He deserves this. Can you find him?”

His heart hovers up, looks at Jun’s partial heart for a few, long moments, then flies away. Sho lets out a breath he didn't realise he was holding, and follows.

Jun is surprisingly near, in the thick of some bushes in a nearby park right beside the company, and Sho finds Aiba beside him, hand on his back, face pressed against his knees, when he arrives. Aiba looks up at him, eyes wide. Sho hesitates, opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. What can he say in this situation? _Sorry I made your friend break his heart?_

Aiba seems to read something from his face, because he shuffles over, stands up. Jun doesn't so much as move. As Aiba passes him, he clasps him on the shoulder, a silent plea. Sho nods, though he isn't sure if he’s going to help. Aiba looks at him, at his heart beside him, at Jun’s heart in his grasp, then nods.

“Everything’s going to be okay,” he mouths, with hope Sho isn't sure he has, and smiles at him, then at Jun, before leaving.

Sho looks down at Jun, head in his hands, and kneels down.

“Hey, Jun-kun.”

Jun freezes. Sho winces, but continues. “I think- I have something of yours.”

Slowly, inch-by-inch, Jun looks up. His face catches somewhere between Sho’s nose and eyes, and then his gaze flickers to the side, his eyes widens.

“Your heart,” his voice is croaky, soft, and his eyes are red-rimmed. Sho resists the urge to hand him a tissue.

“I asked it to find you. I couldn't think of anything else,” he says. Then: “Can I…?”

He holds out his hand, the broken half of Jun’s heart in his palm. Jun flinches as he looks at it, and he’s so _small_ , like his heart. Small and vulnerable but so terribly brave, so stubborn. So different from anything Sho could've imagined.

Jun finds his voice again, stronger than Sho’s ever heard from the younger boy. “I didn't- I didn't mean to-”

Sho smiles at him, trying to be reassuring. “I don't mind,” he says, and Jun flinches again for some reason. Sho tries again. “I didn't think it would be- but I’m glad.”

Jun’s eyes widen, and he looks up at him. A moment of silence stretches between them, and Sho’s glad that his heart isn't still in his locket, or it would have been obvious how hard it’s beating.

“You...are.” Jun says, and his eyes light up, slow and dawning and hard to look away from, somehow.

 _Cute_ , his brain whispers, and he pushes it down valiantly.

Jun slowly holds out his hand, opens his palm, and reveals the other half of his heart. Sho gently brings their hands together, altogether too aware of Jun’s warmth - he ran warmer than Nino, he registers distantly - and watches the halves slowly move towards each other. Knitting together. Becoming whole again.

It consolidates between their hands, and slowly floats up to Jun, whose face is open with wonder and bright, mesmerizing joy. “Thank you,” Jun says, voice soft, and Sho only barely manages to smile back. “I’m sorry. I promise this won't happen again.”

Sho can't help the small fall of his face, before he brings his smile back up. “Well,” he says slowly, his heart fluttering rapidly beside him. “Not the breaking part, but the other parts- um. I’d like to get to know you, first.”

He doesn't look at Jun as he stands up, nervous, and casts his eyes around. Jun stays perfectly still beneath him, and when Sho risks looking at him again, well- Sho’s suddenly reminded of why Jun had been selected for Johnny’s without even an interview. Sho reaches out his hand, and his heart flies out beside it, hopeful.

Jun takes it, his heart coming with him, and Sho can feel their hearts beat in tandem, quick and strong, between the two of them.


End file.
